Dreams and Pictures
by o-WinterQueen-o
Summary: " The dream left him with a thick lump in his throat, yet... somehow still craving more... longing to remain there in that dream for just a little while more. " (V: And the Burning Sun Fell to the Frigid Blade)


**Hey y'all! Did y'all fuckers miss me and all my godforsaken angst bullshit? No? Well, too bad because it's here anyways. Today we have a fresh baked batch of Betrayal Verse™ wallowing. Because Ichigo + Happiness is exhausting so lets make him cry, yeah? And for my new readers: This work is part of a RP verse on tumblr and a series of drabbles posted here, the order & description of which can be found on my profile. You can read as a standalone, but it likely won't make complete sense. **

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The room was dark. Thick curtains hung over the window to keep out the winter chill, effectively blocking out any moonlight from entering as well. The house was quiet and still, the only noise being the dull drone of the space heater in Ichigo's room. Everyone was asleep save the teen in question.

He sat upright in his bed, sliding all the blankets off of him. He'd been dreaming. That wasn't unusual, but this was the first dream he'd had in a long time that didn't involve him waking up screaming. This time he'd simply opened his eyes to find himself alone in his room, feeling slightly numb and strangely nostalgic.

It was a good dream.

Shiro was at the center of it, as always, but he wasn't there to hurt Ichigo. He wasn't there to taunt him or make fun of him or tear into his flesh. This time he was just there... holding him... They were talking... Ichigo was leaning against his shoulder without a care in the world as he grinned up at his boyfriend who smiled back down at him. The teen was trying to convince Shiro to try out a gigai so the hollow could eat human food the next time they went on a date.

So simple of a dream, yet so oddly vivid.

The dream left him with a thick lump in his throat, yet... somehow still craving more... longing to remain there in that dream for just a little while more.

Ichigo swung his legs out of bed, crossing the room to turn off the heater. He left the lights off as he returned to his bed, tugging open the heavy curtains over the window to let in some moonlight along with some of the wintry chill the radiated off of them. Sitting with his back to the window, he could almost imagine the cool draft to be his boyfriend's form.

It was strange...

Normally, even this much chill was enough that his body would be on edge, just at the brink of a full on state of panic, yet now, in this numb nostalgic state, it was welcome. The teen reached across his bed for his phone. Settling back down in bed, he unlocked the device and opened a certain folder in his gallery.

It was an album of pictures with just him and Shiro. No one knew that he had these. No one except Shiro, though he honestly didn't think Shiro remembered. Or cared for that matter. For that he was glad. If any of his friends found out... they'd probably delete them... or at least try to. None of them really understood it when he got like this. When he just needed to drown in the memories of something he knew was a lie.

Ichigo pressed his lips together as he began flicking through the pictures. There were some of them together, and some of just Shiro. They were just stupid little pictures he'd taken every now and then while they were dating. A picture of Shiro sleeping, his face so peaceful and relaxed as he dozed. Them, together on their first date, Shiro wearing human clothes for the first time. The colors looked so striking against Shiro's pale skin back then. Another with both of them, Shiro grinning as Ichigo kissed his cheek and snapped the selfie. There was a little crinkle in Shiro's nose as he grinned and Ichigo remember how he called Shiro cute for it... His boyfriend had spent nearly an hour pouting and proclaiming that he was not cute.

The weight in his throat was heavier than ever now. He blinked, silent tears spilling down his cheek, unnoticed as stroked the screen softly with his thumb.

Next was a short video he'd taken when Shiro wasn't paying attention while they were watching some TV show. Shiro was laughing loudly with crinkled eyes and flashing teeth, the video cutting off as the hollow turned towards the camera so there was only a brief flash of his full face. Ichigo's heart clenched as the sound of his boyfriend's laugh filled his ears.

Back then... everything in these pictures... it was no different then tonight. Just a dream. A hopeless, fruitless dream. No matter how much he wanted to live out that dream, to stay in it forever... he couldn't. That other person didn't exist... his boyfriend never existed...

Suddenly, the chill from the window was no longer welcome and Ichigo was forced to get up. The curtains were quickly drawn once more and the heater flicked back on. The teen plugged his phone back in, tucking it into a desk drawer as if not to be tempted by the images again. Swiping his sleeve against his eyes wearily, Ichigo crawled back under the covers to hope for sleep he knew would not come.

He hated this... he hated just how much he wanted to life in that fucking farce of a relationship once more. He hated how much sway Shiro still had over him. Worse still however, Ichigo hated how much he still loved the bastard, even knowing the person he loved was never real. He hated all of it... but nothing could compare to how much he hated himself for believing it all in the first place.

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 **I hope y'all enjoyed it, I cried writing it. Thanks for reading, please review.**


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